


Suit Me Just Fine

by strangeallure



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Food, M/M, Restaurants, Suits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeallure/pseuds/strangeallure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared likes selling food. Jensen likes eating. Clearly, it's destiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suit Me Just Fine

**Author's Note:**

> _Simple + Devine_ is a play on Loretta Devine's last name. All other misspellings are unintentional.
> 
> Written for amindaya as part of the spn_j2_xmas exchange challenge. Thanks go to meiou_set for bouncing ideas with me and for her continued support as well as to dugindeep for her encouragement and last-minute beta.
> 
> First posted on LJ in December 2010.

"Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. Thirty." Jared opens the tongs to let the last grape fall into the bowl in front of him. "Nine slices of apple and thirty grapes, Mrs. Fleischmann." He smiles at her. "And it's over 70 degrees out, so I'm guessing you want yogurt on top."

"That would be lovely," Mrs. Fleischmann says, her brown eyes warm with a returning smile.

"Berries and chopped nuts, too?"

She gives him a reprimanding look. "No berries, Jared. It's a Thursday." Her voice tells him that he should have known better – which he really should have: No dark-colored fruit on days starting with a 'T', that's the rule.

"Of course. I forgot." He gives her an extra large scoop of yogurt to make up for his slip. Naturally, a small glob of it manages to drop off the serving spoon right onto his green-and-white uniform polo shirt. It's not like it would be the first time. His mom doesn't call him clumsy pants for nothing.

Topping off the fruit salad with a generous helping of mixed nuts, Jared hands over the bowl. "That's four forty-nine."

It's before noon, so Mrs. Fleischmann pays with a five-dollar bill and throws the change in the tip jar. "Thank you, dear. Have a wonderful day."

"You, too, Mrs. Fleischmann."

As soon as the door closes behind her, Genevieve saunters out of the kitchen. "So, how's Crazy Kabbalah Lady today?"

"She's not crazy," Jared says pointedly. So maybe Mrs. Fleischmann is a bit ... special, but she's also very sweet. Jared likes her a lot. "And it's not a Kabbalah thing." Or at least he doesn't think it is. "She just likes for things to be a certain way."

Genevieve throws a grape in the air and catches it in her mouth. "She orders a specific number of fruit slices depending on the date – and different scoops of soup depending on the day of the week. And what was that other rule? Credit in the morning, debit in the afternoon?"

"Cash in the morning, credit in the afternoon," Jared corrects her without hesitation. He's generally pretty good with memorizing their customers' specific preferences and, okay, little quirks.

"See. That woman is crazycakes." Genevieve chews thoughtfully. "Not in a psycho killer way, though."

Jared doesn't even know why, but he feels protective of Mrs. Fleischmann. "She just likes to have rules and know what things are going to be like. There's nothing wrong with that. It's like a safety in numbers thing."

Genevieve gives him a look. "That phrase doesn't mean what you think it means, Jared," she says with her signature smugness.

Unfortunately, she's got him there, so Jared can't do more than a weak, "Whatever," in terms of a comeback. He fully expects her to call him on it when she suddenly dashes back off into the kitchen, mumbling something along the lines of, "Go get 'em, tiger," around a too-large slice of peach.

A moment later, the bell announcing a new customer chimes, and Jared realize what she was really saying. Not 'them', but 'him'. Suit Guy.

So maybe Jared's been having this ridiculous crush on one of the customers at _Simple + Devine_. And maybe he's not been as discreet about it as he should have been, especially knowing his colleagues and their endless abilities to mock and matchmake and interfere. But with a guy this hot it's pretty much impossible to hide how interested he would potentially be. Sadly enough, Suit Guy is either completely oblivious or supremely uninterested himself.

Under different circumstances, Jared would just give it a try anyway. It's not like he's shy or emotionally fragile. Usually, he'd say he's pretty good at flirting, at coming up with something to make the other person laugh and then ask for their number or even a first date in a non-sleazy way. He also likes to think that he's charming enough to make up for his general lack of grace or subtly.

But with Suit Guy, it's different. A few weeks ago, when the guy first came in, Jared was so startled by his sheer gorgeousness that he all but forgot how to speak for a couple of seconds, which made the ordering process a little more awkward than strictly necessary. Just when Jared had regained full control of his vocal chords, he had scooped the guy's tomato soup with so much enthusiasm that some of it splashed onto Jared's work shirt, turning him into a blushing mix of embarrassment and mumbled apologies. He guesses it could have been worse. It could have been Suit Guy's shirt, which probably cost more than Jared's whole outfit on any given day.

His dubious fortune of only messing up his own shirt not withstanding, that first encounter's made Jared so self-conscious whenever the guy comes in – and so focused on not stammering or babbling or spilling things all over himself like the tool that he tends to be – that flirting seems pretty much out of the question. It's such a shame.

He's still being friendly – it's more or less his default setting – but he can't seem to engage the guy in a longer conversation, even with the store being empty like it is today. Hell, he hasn't even found the guts to ask for his name, although Jared has a habit of learning pretty much every customer's name after they've been here a couple of times.

And Suit Guy comes in every weekday. Right around two, when the lunch crowd has thinned out and business is a little slow, he shows up – short hair neatly combed to the side, face perfectly clean-shaven and clad in an immaculate suit – and gets something to go. If only he didn't pay cash every time, Jared could at least have gleaned his name from his credit card by now. And clearly, that thought doesn't make him feel pathetic at all.

Anyway, Suit Guy is here now. A little earlier than usual, but flawlessly dressed and handsome as always, making Jared acutely aware of the rapidly drying yogurt stain on his shirt and the shaggy mop of hair on his head that he sees reflected in one of the glass cases in front of him. Why does he even bother using a brush in the morning? And how does Suit Guy pull off always looking so well put together? It's not fair.

"Hello," Jared says, trying for a bright smile, "what can I get you?"

Normally, the guy rattles off his order at this point, but this time, he answers with a question. "I don't know." He smiles and Jared melts a little right on the spot. "Is there anything you can recommend?"

Jared swallows. A question. For his opinion. A possible conversation starter. A perfect opportunity for him to mess up. He takes a breath and tries to think quickly. The guy probably hasn't got all day.

"We have a red lentil soup with tamarind and coriander." He's not sure whether the guy really looks skeptical or if it's just his imagination, but Jared immediately feels the need to justify his choice. "I know it's warm out and that sounds like a winter dish, but it's quite light, without cream, served at medium temperature. And Aldis makes this amazing toasted Ciabatta bread from scratch that comes with the soup. It tastes awesome."

The smile the guy gives him now would probably best be described as 'indulgent' and there's a small laugh in his voice when he says, "But isn't everything here made from scratch?" and points to the sign right above Jared's head, which reads, "Simple + Devine. Always organic. Always homemade. Always delicious."

Jared feels himself blush furiously. "Yeah," he gives a nervous laugh, "yeah, of course it is." He motions towards the kitchen, which is only separated from the sales area by a glass wall, so customers can see where and how the food is prepared. It's part of Loretta's philosophy. She's about to open a fourth location next month, so it seems to be working for her.

"And in case you were wondering: it's organic, too. And delicious," Jared says self-deprecatingly.

For a moment, the guy looks surprised, and then he raises his chin a little and laughs, flashing two perfect rows of white teeth, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Jared is so gone.

"I guess that's what I'll be having then," he says and, after a beat, adds, "Jared."

Jared's heart almost stops – how does Suit Guy, _hot_ Suit Guy, know his name? – but then he remembers that it's actually embroidered on his shirt. Still. It's the first time the guy calls him by name. That's progress.

Suit Guy also happens to pay by credit card for the first time, so when he takes his paper bag with the food and thanks Jared for the recommendation, Jared risks another bright grin and says, "You're welcome, Jensen."

He doesn't even care about the speculative look Genevieve shoots him when she comes back to restock the fridge with ready-made sandwiches.

\--

Right after the lunch rush the next day, Jensen is back at _Simple + Devine_ \- and Genevieve magically disappears into the kitchen as soon as she spots him through the large front window. Jared's not exactly unhappy about it.

"That was some great soup yesterday," Jensen says as he walks up to the counter. "Thank you." There's a quirk to his mouth that brings Jared dangerously close to sighing like a starstruck teenager, and when Jensen asks what he should be getting for lunch this time, Jared's feeling so pleased that even he realizes it's a little ridiculous.

It becomes sort of a thing between them after that, and Jared spends more time than he probably should planning a special lunch for Jensen each day.

When Jensen keeps coming back for more, praising Jared's choices in that confident, slightly raspy voice, though, it feels more than worth it.

\--

Jared has just started cutting up vegetables when Chad comes in with his usual swagger and an _I ♥ your mom_ baseball cap. "Yo bitches, what's up?"

"No one here is your bitch, Chad. Now grab a knife and help me with the veggie sticks. Those bell peppers aren't gonna cut themselves." Jared shoots Chad an irritated look. "And take off that cap. Loretta would throw a fit if she caught you wearing it with your uniform."

Chad squints at him and pulls the cap from his head before scratching his belly. "What happened, J-man? I thought you and Preppy McWall Street really hit it off. Shouldn't you be singing show tunes and farting rainbows or something?"

Jared rolls his eyes. He won't even dignify that with a response.

"He's just bitter because the guy came in with a hot chick hanging off of his arm yesterday." Genevieve informs Chad. Jared hates her a little.

"I'm not," he says, though he totally is. "Just because I ask Chad to do what he's getting paid for doesn't mean I'm in a bad mood."

Neither Genevieve nor Chad pay his denial any attention. "How hot was she?" Chad asks instead, but at least he gets out a chopping board.

"Extremely hot. Wrap dress and high-heeled shoes, long dark hair and a fabulous pair of tits." Genevieve makes an appropriately inappropriate hand gesture to go with that statement. "Much too classy for you, but you would have drooled anyway."

"You bet I would've. I'm never afraid to show my appreciation of the female form." Chad leers and runs his finger along the bell pepper in his hand suggestively.

Why is Jared even friends with those two?

When the customer bell chimes a moment later, Chad and Genevieve both shout, "Not it," before Jared can so much as turn to look at the door.

It's Jensen. Of course it is. At least he's not bringing company today.

With an exasperated eye roll aimed at his two colleagues, Jared pushes the glass door of the kitchen open and steps behind the counter.

Jensen smiles at him like nothing is different, which it probably isn't for him. Jared's stupid crush is not really Jensen's fault, after all. Except for how Jensen keeps getting his lunch here every day, wearing these stupidly attractive suits on his stupidly well-proportioned body that match his stupidly perfect face. And how he keeps asking for Jared's opinion on what to eat and keeps thanking him for the great recommendations that help him "broaden his culinary horizon." (Yeah, okay, so maybe that's not a direct quote, but Jared's always had a bit of a flair for drama.) And anyway, Jensen's always smiling at Jared these days like they're in on the same private joke, always lingers a little to share random tidbits about themselves and talk about completely unimportant things.

So maybe Jared feels like his crush is pretty much completely Jensen's fault, but this is still his place of work, and it's still not a crime to be nice to the person who's selling you your lunch – even when you're totally leading them on and make them think that this is heading somewhere, and even if that person has been trying to find an opening to ask you out for over a week now.

"Hello," Jared says with a smile that feels just as pasted on as it is, "what can I get you?"

"Whatever is good," Jensen says, grinning, though Jared thinks he detects a hint of confusion on his face, "like always." Jensen gives him a conspiratorial wink. "You should know by now that I trust your judgment."

And it's stupid how Jensen's praise instantly makes Jared's cheeks flush a little. Jared mentally shakes his head at himself. He's just like a puppy eager for treats and a pat on the head.

"We have round zucchini," Jared points at what looks like small green pumpkins, "with a ground beef and goat cheese filling. They're pretty good. And the smoothie of the day is also great," he says with his most professional smile.

Jensen seems to sense that something is off, and it sends a small jolt of satisfaction through Jared. "So, um," Jensen says, and it's probably the first time Jared's seen him look a little confused, maybe even nervous, "I was meaning to ask you something."

Jared feels his eyebrows go up in a question, and he almost forgets about that gorgeous woman for a moment, the one with the perfect hair and perfect dress and perfect ass whose designer clothes would go much better with Jensen's impeccable suits and luxurious ties and the fucking waistcoats he wears sometimes than Jared's usual jeans and a t-shirt. Somehow, Jared still can't help himself – or the small flare of hope in his gut that Jensen might finally ask him out.

He's looking back at Jensen in anticipation, a little mesmerized by the way Jensen bites his lip and looks away for a moment before he finally blurts out the words, "Would you ... I mean, do you happen to cater for functions?"

All in all, it's just not Jared's day.

\--

A few weeks later, Jared's mood is considerably brighter – which quite possibly has something to do with the fact that Danneel, the beautiful woman who was tagging along with Jensen, turns out to be Jensen's boss, but definitely not his girlfriend. At least Jared deduces as much from the way she keeps outrageously flirting with Aldis when she and Jensen come in to discuss the catering for _Harris Clothiers_ ' five-year anniversary party.

His hunch is confirmed when Jensen later tells him about how they've been best friends since college while Jared happily heaps lemon thyme couscous into Jensen's take-away box and adds an especially generous helping of the cherry plum reduction in a separate container. He's in a really giving mood all of a sudden.

Unfortunately, his good mood doesn't go unnoticed by his colleagues, who are not above drawing lipstick hearts onto his locker before his shift and seem to greatly enjoy singing "Jared and Jensen sitting in a tree: K-I-S-S-I-N-G" as soon as the door swings shut behind Jensen. It's more than a little embarrassing. It's also, quite sadly, not true at all. Although Jared can't seem to convince them of the tragically platonic nature of his and Jensen's relationship.

When even Mike Rosenbaum, _Simple + Devine_ 's produce supplier, asks Jared about his new boyfriend as he hauls in a month's supply of potatoes, Jared's just about had it.

"We're not together, okay?" he says a little more loudly than he intended. "We get along, but nothing's happened, and at this point, I really don't think it will." Saying it like that makes him realize that this might well be the truth. If Jensen were interested at all, he surely would have made a move by now.

At first, Jared thinks he imagines Mike singing "You Can't Hurry Love" under his breath as he leaves a few minutes later, but when the delivery crates the next day are painted in a completely unsubtle shade of pink and Jared finds the words, "Carpe diem: make it happen!" written all over the accompanying delivery slip, Jared's pretty sure he heard right. And when he discovers some radishes carved into the shape of hearts among the produce, Mike's message seems pretty clear.

Too bad Jared's too stubborn – and maybe a little too chicken, too – to take his advice.

\--

When Jared agreed to work as one of the servers for this anniversary thing – he can always use some extra money – he didn't exactly picture himself standing inside the fitting room of _Harris Clothiers: Tailors and Shirtmakers_ wearing a suit that costs more than he makes at _Simple + Devine_ in a month. Yet here he is, not even a week before the event.

As he straightens his tie, he has to admit that the suit makes him feel ... different. He doesn't think he ever looked this good. Handsome. Grown up. Like someone Jensen would date.

He barely resists the urge to snap a photo with his phone and send it to his mother.

The material of the suit is soft and lightweight, fitting perfectly around his shoulders and tapering down just right to his waist. The dark blue of the ensemble suits his skin tone and he even likes the subtle pattern of the tie and pocket square that bring out the color of his eyes. Or at least that's what Danneel said they did.

Jared's learned more about colors and style and choosing the right suit for the occasion in the last half hour than he's known in his life. Which, admittedly, isn't saying much.

"I still can't believe Danneel talked all of you into modeling our clothes while serving," he hears Jensen's voice say through the thick, velvety curtain.

"Yeah," Jared laughs, "me either. But she's paying extra so it's not like I mind."

After Danneel figured out the details of _Simple + Devine_ 's catering for the anniversary party with Loretta, she had the _fabulous_ (her word, not Jared's) idea of them not just serving the food in their regular catering uniform (black pants and white button-downs), but to dress all of them in clothes they sell at _Harris Clothiers_.

At first, Jared wasn't too happy with the idea, but after Danneel promised that they wouldn't be held liable for any damages to the clothes, he and the others agreed.

And since Jared didn't make it to the fitting his colleagues had on Monday because of a test in his grad program, they had to make a special appointment. Wednesday night, right after closing.

Which is why he's now standing here, looking his best and nervous as hell.

"Jared, are you about ready?" Danneel's voice comes through the curtain, not even giving him the chance to reply before her hands part the heavy material. "Because I'm coming in."

"Damn," she says with a wink, "I half hoped you weren't decent yet."

"Danneel," Jensen hisses right behind her, obviously embarrassed, but doesn't follow her inside the small, mirrored room. When she takes a step to the right and pulls him beside her, Jensen doesn't resist, though.

Jared expects some kind of comment, a compliment maybe or even criticism of something not looking quite right, but Jensen doesn't say anything. Instead, he takes his time slowly looking Jared up and down. Drinking him in, seizing him up.

The moment's too long, too quiet, doesn't seem to end, and when their eyes finally meet, Jensen swallows thick enough for Jared to notice. His cheeks might also be a little flushed.

Before the hypnotic, almost awkward tension becomes too much, Danneel breaks it. "Not too shabby, huh, Jensen?" she asks cheerfully and elbows him in the side with a knowing smile.

Casually, she comes closer to straighten Jared's lapels and declares, "I'd say we found you the perfect suit, Jared. The customers will love it. They'll probably think it will make them look taller – and a lot more buff." She snickers and pats his chest one last time. "My work here is done. I'm off for the night." With sure strides, she quickly bypasses Jensen, and by the time Jared's processed that she's leaving, she's already throwing an, "I'll lock you two in. Don't forget to turn off the lights when you leave," over her shoulder.

And then they're alone all of a sudden.

Jensen swallows again and laughs self-consciously. "That was ... subtle."

Jared just smiles. The flush is still there in Jensen's cheeks. It's adorable, and it gives Jared a small surge of confidence he usually lacks in Jensen's company.

"So," he says with a small twirl, "how do you like it?"

Jensen's eyes widen, like he's surprised Jared even has to ask. "You," he swallows again, his throat working and jaw clenching slightly, "you look great."

"I totally do, right?" Jared says and grins mischievously. "I didn't know new clothes could make you feel like this." He runs his index finger along the inside of his shirt collar and pulls a little. "Though I'm still not entirely sure about the tie."

"The tie is fine. More than fine." Jensen gives him an assessing look. "But a loose Windsor knot might be more your style."

Without warning, he steps up to Jared and puts his hands on Jared's tie. This close, Jared can smell the clean, woodsy scent of Jensen's aftershave, and it feels like the side of Jensen's hand resting on Jared's chest is burning right through the fabric of his new shirt, warming Jared's skin.

"I could help you with that," Jensen says; no, murmurs.

"That-" Now it's Jared's turn to swallow thickly. "That would be great."

Jensen takes off the tie only to put it back around Jareds neck, the knot bigger and more comfortable this time. Jensen's hands are deft and strong and work much too quickly, but even as he takes a step back, the look in his eyes is heated.

"When I thought about taking off some of your clothes, I sure as hell didn't think I'd be putting them right back on," he chuckles darkly, only to step further away just a moment later, his eyes roaming the ground and an embarrassed expression on his face.

"I can't believe I just said that." His eyes dart to Jared's, then quickly look away again. "I'm sorry. I just. I didn't." And hearing Jensen – calm, self-assured Jensen – stammering and unable to find the right words because of _him_ , Jared, is just about the most confidence-boosting thing Jared's ever seen.

"Come on, Jared," Jensen finally says, a pleading note in his voice that's only half-humorous, "help me out here. I'm not reading this wrong, am I?"

And Jared can't help the quick snort of laughter. All the crushing and pining on his side and all the teasing and well-meaning (if sometimes crude, especially in Chad's case) advice from his colleagues and friends – it should be so very, very obvious.

Now there's only one thing left to do: He takes a big step, right up into Jensen's space, and gently cups Jensen's jaw in his hand.

"You're not reading this wrong. Not at all," he breathes against Jensen's cheek before he moves in for their first kiss.

It's almost an hour before they finally lock up behind themselves and head out for dinner together.

In Jared's opinion, it's time well spent.


End file.
